Patty Chuang

Private members' clubs are having revivals. Once cigar-filled, men-only enclaves, they have become daily haunts for the creative class. The pandemic was the turning point. When lockdowns ended, people craved face-to-face connection again. Entrepreneurs and freelancers began treating these "third spaces" as offices — working there by day, staying on for talks and gatherings at night. No conversation about this kind of space can leave out Soho House. Founded in London in 1995, the brand set itself apart from old-school gentlemen's clubs from day one — no bankers or lawyers, only people from media, film, and design. Three decades on, it operates more than 40 houses worldwide, and membership itself works as a social calling card. It has largely defined what the modern members' club looks like: judged by circle, not pedigree; work by day, socialize by night. In 2019, Soho House opened in Sheung Wan — the brand's first outpost in East Asia, in a property founder Nick Jones spent a decade searching for. An entire 28-story office tower was converted into the club, the largest in the world at the time of opening.

One evening in Tokyo, I found myself seated at the counter of a three-Michelin-starred kaiseki restaurant. Across from me was a 63-year-old chef effortlessly filleting fish for sashimi while switching seamlessly between Japanese, English, and French.

On the day I walked into Hangzhou Botanical Garden, the leaves at Taoyuan Ridge had already turned a lush, overwhelming green. The plum rains had not yet begun, and the summer heat had not fully set in. In Jiangnan, these are the most comfortable days of the year.

Wechat